


A Weakening Resolve

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Charles is taken with the newest lady-in-waiting to arrive at court, but Lady Margery resists his advances.
Relationships: Charles Brandon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	A Weakening Resolve

He didn’t notice her right away. She walked behind the queen, eyes downcast, shrinking into herself as if she were trying to hide from the world. When she did finally look up, she appeared wide-eyed and overwhelmed, her eyes darting about the room. Charles had never seen her before, he would have surely noticed her beauty, beauty that put the other ladies-in-waiting to shame. Her chestnut brown hair fell to her waist, brushing the top of her skirt, and when she snuck a glance around the bustling court, her dark brown eyes settled on him for just a moment, a moment that stole his breath away. He bit his lip, holding back his groan of desire.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” William whispered in his ear.

“Perhaps,” Charles shrugged, playing at being nonchalant regarding the newest addition to the Queen’s court as if her mere presence hadn’t taken his breath away. “What is her name?”

“Lady Margery,” William replied, leaning against the stone pillar behind him. “She recently arrived from Wales. I believe her father was good friends with Henry’s father. Rumor has it she has a bit of a rebellious streak. Her father sent her to court to rein her in.”

Charles burst out laughing. The court was the last place on earth he would choose to send his daughter. Obviously, Lady Margery’s father didn’t know what he was getting her into.

* * *

Charles didn’t see Margery at all the next couple of days, not for lack of trying, but their paths never seemed to cross. He finally saw her at the joust, sitting with the other ladies-in-waiting. William wasted no time pointing her out and if wasn’t long before Anthony had joined in. Of course, their banter drew the king from his seat by the queen, wondering what they were joking about. Once Henry knew, there was no stopping them. They were relentless in their torment. Charles could only shake his head and smile.

His chance to finally speak to her came several hours later. He’d been preoccupied watching the joust and helping his friends until he spotted her out of the corner of his eye strolling behind the tents. He patted William on the shoulder and hurried after her, calling her name.

“Lady Margery,” he said when she stopped, “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Your Grace,” she murmured, dropping into a low curtsey. She stood upright, her eyes locking with his, a smile dancing at the corner of her lips. “I wasn’t aware that you were attempting to make my acquaintance.”

“I would be remiss if I didn’t attempt to get to know such a lovely woman as yourself,” Charles smiled.

He expected Margery to blush and look away, but she tipped her chin up and met his eyes, her smile widening.

“You’re too kind, your Grace,” Margery said. “But, I do think it best that you don’t get to know me _too_ well.” She curtseyed again and continued on her way.

Charles could only watch her as she walked away.

* * *

Margery saw him as soon as he entered the room with his friends, Sir William and Sir Anthony. She fidgeted nervously, wondering if he would come to talk to her again. She hadn’t known quite what to say when he’d approached her at the joust; he was handsome in a way that made her heart flutter and her breath catch in her throat. She’d been flattered that he wanted to get to know her, but at the same time, she’d heard the rumors of his sullied reputation with the women at court. Her father had warned her about men such as Charles Brandon and she took that warning to heart, not wanting to disappoint her father. As much as she’d like to get to know the Duke of Suffolk, she was also determined to keep her own reputation spotless and not disappoint her father in any way.

She turned back to the other ladies, brushing off Elizabeth’s whispered suggestion that she go talk to the Duke, instead, she focused on Mildred’s stories of her dalliances around the court. Margery found herself hoping she wouldn’t mention Charles.

“Lady Margery?” a deep voice whispered in her ear, the sound sending an unexpected though not unpleasant chill down her spine.

She quickly rose to her feet, stumbling over her skirts and elbowing whoever stood behind her - she suspected it was the Duke of Suffolk - in the chest. She dropped into a curtsey, her eyes on the floor. 

Sure enough, when she snuck a peek through her eyelashes, Charles Brandon stood in front of her, his hand pressed to the center of his chest, a faint smile on his face.

“That was quite the greeting, Lady Margery,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I apologize, your Grace,” she murmured.

“You could make it up to me by allowing me to dance with you,” he said, so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

Her initial instinct was to deny him and return to her seat at the table. Except Charles was smiling at her, a smile that made her feel warm all over. She nodded and let him take her hand.

Margery was unable to tear her eyes away from him as they moved through the dance. Each time Charles came close to her, she felt her heart beat faster and heat rise in her body. She tried to convince herself it was natural to feel that way when dancing with such a handsome man, but she couldn’t deny that it was Charles and Charles alone that elicited such a reaction in her. When the music stopped, the dance drawing to a close, Charles held her hand in his and brushed a kiss across the back of her knuckles.

“Lady Margery,” he murmured. She thought he was going to say more, but King Henry called his name. The Duke of Suffolk gave her a tight smile, spun on his heel, and hurried to the king’s side. 

Once he was gone, Margery slowly exhaled. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until Charles walked away from her. She headed back to the table, passing it without a word, down a hallway, and out the door into a side courtyard. She sat on a bench under one of the trees, her hand pressed to her chest, trying desperately to forget that Charles Brandon existed.

* * *

Charles watched her as she escaped out the door to one of the seldom used courtyards. He waited to see if anyone would follow her or if she was merely there to catch her breath before coming back inside. When she didn’t return after several minutes, he excused himself and followed her, stepping out the door and moving quietly across the courtyard. He eased onto the stone bench beside her.

“My lady, are you unwell?” he asked, his lips just inches from her ear.

Margery jumped, startled, and slowly turned to face him. “N-no, your Grace,” she sighed. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

Charles reached over and took her hands in his, sliding across the bench so his body was pressed against hers. “You are very lovely, Lady Margery,” he whispered.

“So you’ve mentioned,” she said. She squared her shoulders and sat up straight. “I must tell you, your Grace, I am quite aware of your reputation here at court. I don’t wish to sully my own reputation -”

Charles took her hands in his, glanced around, then he quickly leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. At first, Margery responded, returning the kiss, but it only lasted the briefest of seconds before she pulled away, the tips of her fingers pressed to her lips.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I am not interested in whatever you might be offering.” She rose to her feet, her skirts gathered in her hands, and ran inside, disappearing into the crowd.

“Damn it,” he growled under his breath. That woman confounded him at every turn. He sensed her attraction to him, could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her body responded to him, but when he tried to act on it, she shot him down. He slumped over, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. All she was doing was making him more determined to get her attention, to get her in his bed, no matter what.

* * *

Margery had done her best to dissuade Charles, but it didn’t seem to matter. If anything, his pursuit of her increased tenfold. Everywhere she went, there he was, watching her, flirting with her. He’d appear at her side during banquets, requesting a dance. He would sit near her at meals, walk at her side during outings, he was always there. Always.

She stood firm, refusing to succumb to his wiles. Not that it was easy, God knew it wasn’t. Aside from being incredibly handsome, he made her laugh, he made her feel safe, protected, and he always treated her like a lady. The latter surprised her, considering what she knew he wanted from her. She hoped his interest would wane as time passed.

Except, two months later, he was still pursuing her, his interest in her doing anything _but_ waning. Margery’s resolve was weakening. Rapidly.

In fact, her resolve had weakened to the point where she had sent word to her father, requesting that he allow her to return home. It was the only way she could be assured that she would not give in to Charles.

She was in her rooms, packing her things when there was a knock at her door. She hurried to open it, suspecting it was yet another one of her friends, or another lady-in-waiting sent by the Queen to convince her to stay. Margery prepared herself to tell whoever it was that she would not, could not stay.

She yanked open the door, her mouth falling open in surprise when she saw the Duke of Suffolk standing in front of her, a tight smile on his face.

“M’lady,’ he murmured.

“Your Grace.” Margery dropped into a curtsey, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Charles took her arm and pulled her flush against his body, his lips just inches from hers.

“I am told you are leaving court,” he whispered. “That you are going home?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I will be gone by nightfall.”

“Is there nothing I can do to dissuade you?”

Margery yanked herself free, backpedaling into the room, her hands in her hair, twisting it nervously. “No, nothing,” she shook her head. “You, sir, are the reason I am leaving. If I don’t leave…” Her mouth snapped shut and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Charles followed her into the room, the door swinging closed behind him. His face was set, determined. “If you don’t leave? What? What happens if you don’t leave?”

Margery dropped her head, her chin on her chest, a defeated sigh leaving her. She cleared her throat, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“If I don’t leave, your Grace, I am afraid I will not be able to resist your advances.” 

“Really?” Charles chuckled. “And what is so wrong with that?”

He was standing so close she could feel the heat emanating from him, hear his breath as it tore in and out of his throat as he waited for her to answer. Every pent-up feeling from the last few months, every emotion she had suppressed in his presence suddenly exploded out of her.

“Because I have fallen in love with you,” she shouted. “You have pestered me and pestered me, worn me down until all I am able to think about is you. If I do not leave court, I fear I will agree to be your mistress and that, your Grace, is something I do not want. I want to be loved, to marry, to have a man want me because he loves me, not because he wishes to possess me. I cannot stay here, not any longer. For my own sanity, I must leave.”

Charles froze, his brow furrowing in confusion. Margery stumbled back, bumping into the table behind her, her hand landing on it, the only thing keeping her upright. She had not meant to expose her feelings, but it had happened and she could not take it back. She only hoped she could escape with a modicum of her dignity intact.

“Lady Margery -”

“I am sorry, your Grace,” she whispered. “Please forgive my outburst. If you will excuse me, I really must go.” She turned to flee, to hide in the gardens until her father’s carriage arrived, but Charles caught her by the arm, stopping her.

“No,” he said firmly. “Please wait.”

Margery kept her eyes averted, too embarrassed to look at the Duke. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she prayed that Charles would not see them. If only he would leave her be.

“It’s true I have pursued you, relentlessly,” he said quietly. “I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable. And yes, when you first came to court, my only goal was to get you into my bed.” He took a step closer to her and brushed a hand down her cheek. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed his lips to her ear. “But things have changed.”

Margery’s heart leapt and her hands started to shake. She squeezed her eyes closed, fighting back the tears.

“I will only have you in my bed if it is our marriage bed, my dear lady,” he whispered. “You have beguiled me and enchanted me. I do want to possess you, but as your husband. I love you, Margery, and I am going to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

A single tear slid down her cheek as all of the air left her. She felt lightheaded, dizzy with excitement. “Did you...did you say you love me?” she mumbled.

Charles pulled her into the circle of his arms and kissed her cheek. “Yes, I did,” he laughed. “And I believe you said you love me as well. There’s no backing out now, Lady Margery. You have won me over. I plan to make you the Duchess of Suffolk.” He stepped away from her and bowed low to the ground. “Now, if you will excuse me, your father is expecting me. He and I have a marriage to discuss.”

He was almost out the door when Margery called his name. He turned back to her, surprised to see her standing at his side. She rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her, at first just a brush of her lips across his, but with a heated growl, Charles squeezed her tight, his tongue dancing across her lips, his teeth nipping at her until she opened her mouth and let him in, the kiss consuming both of them. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Forgive me, your Grace,” she whispered. “I could not wait.”

“You’re forgiven, m’lady,” Charles smiled. He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Lady Margery.”

And with that, he disappeared down the hall, gone to seal their future.


End file.
